


Moving forward

by Honeyvalentine



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Ash Lynx Lives, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27632438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honeyvalentine/pseuds/Honeyvalentine
Summary: Aslan, and his list of loved ones.Or Ash coming to accept giving up is not an option for him anymore.
Relationships: Ash Lynx & Jessica Randy, Ash Lynx & Michael, Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji, Max Lobo & Ash Lynx
Comments: 69
Kudos: 202





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey😏 I’m hyperfixating on banana fish 🤗 n e ways.... hope you’re all doing well. This is mostly ash joining Max’s family dynamic and is more introspective on him. Love uuuu tell me if you want more
> 
> There’s mentions of csa and violence but it never gets graphic

Ash doesn’t outwardly classify the _incident_ a suicide attempt. 

He thinks about how he felt when Shorter died.

He thinks about, how for six hours, he was willing to inflict that same feeling.

Waking up in a hospital bed, it’s a little devastating. 

  
  


Upon his release, the first thing he does is call Eiji from Max’s phone. He does it as soon as he can, because if he doesn’t work up the nerve now, he never will. 

There’s something inherently vulnerable in letting Max stay in the room, his hands shaking, bottom lip poking out.

“ _Ash”_ he sounds exhausted, like he’s been crying, desperate. 

_“Sorry, Eiji”_

_“It’s okay Ash, it’s so good to hear you. It’s okay.”_

He tells Eiji he loves him, while he still knows how. He tells Eiji he’ll call him every day, that he’ll text him once he gets his own phone. Eiji says it back. Of course he does.

Blunt as always, Eiji asks him why he didn’t call an ambulance. 

There are some things even Ash can’t face. 

Before hanging up, Aslan tilts his head back, voice cracking for a myriad of reasons.

“Are you mad at me?”

There is a pause on the line 

“Mad is not the right word. I am happy you are still here.” 

“I’m sorry.” For everything, he thinks

“You don’t need to apologize, Ash.”

“Can I call you tomorrow?” Ash grits out, he feels like he is overflowing. He didn’t think tomorrow would be his problem.

“Please do. I expect to hear your voice every day.”

Ash doesn’t have many belongings, and it shows when everything he owns fits in Max’s old college backpack, sitting on his lap in the passenger seat.

The silence between them eats at Ash. There isn’t any playful conversation, Max isn’t going on and on between anecdotes.

_I really fucked up this time._

Ash presses his head against the cool window, and part of him, deep down, prays that this is a dream. That he is still in the library, living out his first and last moment of peace.   
That he only has to hurt for a few minutes more. 

When they reach a standstill, the car stopped at a red light, Ash can’t meet the driver's eyes. He knows Max is turned towards him, analyzing each and every wrack of Ash’s thin frame.

He’s wearing an old shirt of Max’s, not taking it off even after getting some of his own belongings back. Partly because lifting his arms above his head aggravates his stab wound.   
Partly because of something else.

It’s when Max reaches over, taking a limp hand from the younger boy’s lap, that Ash begins to cry. His palm is smaller than Max’s, but with more calluses.

He can’t hide his shaking, the gentle gasps for air between tears, when their fingers are interlocked above the space between them.  
The last time Ash held someone’s hand; he can’t even remember. His father wasn't exactly warm, and Griffin wasn’t exactly around. 

It’s with his knuckles against Max’s palm, thumb brushing back against the 17 years of scars, that Ash realizes he doesn’t know how to be someone’s son.

_‘If I have to live’_ he thinks _‘at least give me the strength to learn’_

California looks different from this point of view 

“This one is too scary. I want to find a sweet one!”

“She thinks you’re the scary one Michael! She’s just a kitten.” Ash tuts 

“She hissed at me!” Michael exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. 

“That was pretty scary.” Ash smiles. Michael swings his legs back and forth from on top of Ash’s shoulders. Scouting stray cats in their neighborhood is Michael’s new favorite pastime. 

“Maybe she has a nicer sister. One that doesn’t hiss! Then we can take one home!” Michael swings his head down to meet Ash’s gaze, grin spreading across his face. 

“I’m sure she does.” _Kind of like you and me._ He thinks grimly, still smiling back. “We could take her home, and see what Jess says about it.”   
Michael throws his head back laughing, “oh we’d get in trouble!” 

Ash really likes living with Michael.

Having zero alone time, six months ago, would’ve been the older boys own personal hell. Now, he doesn’t particularly hate when Michael insists he and Ash spend every waking moment together.   
It’s routine, every day after school, Michael crashes through the house to the blonde’s bedroom, rambling on and on about his classes, his friends. He shows off his school work, one of the papers being a short paragraph about how ‘ _his older brother takes him to the best places ever_ ’

Ash feels his heart squeeze, because all he does is take Michael on walks around the neighborhood and to the nearest gas station. 

Whenever he finds the younger boy's enthusiasm obnoxious or overbearing, he thinks back to the day their neighbor's dog got loose, leaving Michael flying into his arms with a squeal. Whispering a ‘ _that was scary…._ ‘ into his neck.   
Ash worries, and even feels insecure, in how Michael sees him. Wondering how many pairs of rose colored glasses he has on, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

They’re playing with Michael’s plastic animals on his carpet, Jessica has the kitchen window open, and it blows the bedroom door, just enough to emit a soft creak.   
Ash immediately whips his head around, heart flying out of his body. 

Michael laughs lightly at his surprise, but pulls his eyebrows together when Ash buries his head in his hands, trembling and almost angry. 

“Did you think it was a ghost?” Michael scoots closer to Ash, using his little fingers to detach his friend’s face from his palms.

Ash’s voice is tight. “Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, mama said the house isn’t haunted.” He smiles gently, empathetically. He doesn’t care that Ash is a little bit fragile. “Let’s go be in the living room. So you feel safer.” 

“Okay.” Ash lets himself be guided, as gently as little kid hands can manage. Copying the comforts he learned from his parents. 

Michael does not look at him differently. 

On horrible, lonely nights, Ash cries out of worry, because he knows what happens to the sweethearts. The outgoing ones. The kids like Skipper.

At least Michael isn’t a kid like him. 

_._

Weirdly enough, between Max and Jessica, Jessica is slowly becoming his favorite. He will never say it out loud. 

They’re both very alike, they have the same sense of humor, they’re both playfully mean. Boisterous, a little rude. Jessica doesn’t hide her softness, unlike him. 

She’s kind, and unafraid, and Ash catches himself thinking he wants to be like her one day. He never really thought of the future before.

When out in public, him and Jess get taken as mother and son very easily. They look very similar, blonde hair, taller stature, feminine, sharp eyes. Ash pretends that it really is biological, that he can inherit her good heart somehow.

He realizes that he’s talking to Jessica more than anyone else in his life. Aside from Eiji and Shorter, he’s never had someone he could just _talk to.  
_

It’s like clockwork,

Jessica stays up late, reading on the couch, and Ash sits next to her. If Ash is feeling quiet, she tells him about work. Stories from school, from when she was his age.  
Other nights, she listens to Ash ramble on and on. About his favorite books, something he saw on tv. About Eiji, about Max and Michael. 

She always listens, and asks questions. Her input is always kind, particularly teasing when Eiji is the conversation piece. 

“Michael is pretty social, but I don’t know if he’d want to play sports. We could get him an instrument for his birthday and take it from there?” Jess tuts, tilting her chin. 

“Yeah, he’s active but not competitive at all. Like Max.”

“Well he sure as hell doesn’t get that from us.” Jess laughs. “Did you play any sports as a kid?”

“Just baseball.” Ash mentions offhandedly, then stopping cold.

It’s just the two of them beneath the soft lamplight. Jess has her legs curled underneath her, hair tied back, and is hanging onto every word he’s saying.

  
“You want to tell me about that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Max told me a little bit of what he found out in Cape Cod.”

“What do you think?” _Don’t freak out_

“I can’t imagine how helpless you felt. I don’t think that’s something you can just bounce back from, Ash.”

There’s a lot rushing through Ash’s head, questions he needs to ask. For the sake of eight year old Aslan. For the sake of himself at thirteen. For the little boy who begged for an ounce of compassion on his hands and knees. 

“Do you think it’s my fault?” He breathes out. He thinks back to his dad, to Dino, to a long list of nameless faces. 

The weight on the couch shifts.

“I know for a fact that it wasn’t your fault. Did someone tell you it was?” Her hands are coming down on his shoulders. 

_You have no idea._ His breath hitches. 

_You have no idea, the things they said to me._

Ash squeezes his eyes shut, out of relief, and out of a deep hurt. He would have given his life to hear someone tell him that. 

“That's what everyone said.” He lets her curl her arms around him, presses his head into her shoulder. She doesn’t move away, or shove back. 

“That isn’t the truth, okay? And I’ll tell you any time that you need to hear it.” 

Ash, despite never knowing his mother, still called out to her desperately in the throes of terror. 

_Mama, mama, mama_

Being rocked back and forth, like a child, Jess cupping the back of his neck in ways he knows he was robbed of as a newborn, Ash finally puts a face to the name.

  
  
  
Ash has nightmares, say, four times a week or so. He’s used to them by now, resorting to sleeping in often, not making too much noise when he wakes up. 

Tonight has to be a joke

“FUCK”

Ash can feel himself disoriented, he’s dizzy and freezing cold. The dark ceiling above him, it can be anywhere. His body is paralyzed in fear, he’s back at the mansion and he can’t move; there’s something numbing his body, he can’t control what happens to him. 

He hears the door knob turn. Starts crying in earnest, full body tremors. Someone is going to _walk in- they’re going to-_

The light switches on, and there’s safety in at least _predicting_ what’s to come. He whines, he can’t pull his mind together, still confused. _Where the fuck am I_

“You up Ash? Can you hear me?” Max kneels down, trying to meet his eyes

“Wh-who? Please-mmm” _please don’t._ He thinks

_I can’t take it like I used to_

“It’s Max. You’re at home right now.”

_Max. Fuck._

“Max” he vocalizes, voice tight, quiet.

“Right here.” 

The sight of his face- Ash sobs in relief. Reaching out his hands the best he can, begging for purchase. 

Max is at his bedside now, hand on Ash’s lower back, helping him into a sitting position. They’re holding hands, once again. 

“You’re shaking so much.” Max whispers. 

He feels a soothing palm, rubbing up and down his spine. 

“Can I get you water?” 

Ash shakes his head, he doesn’t want to be alone. 

“Okay. Can I hold you?” 

Thinking back to the night he spent in Eiji's lap, he nods violently. That is exactly what he wants. 

He's so frightened, his heart is pounding. It’s hard to describe with any other word than _fear_. 

Max hitches him into his lap, squeezing him lightly. 

“See? It’s okay.” He presses a kiss into soft blonde hair. Ash bites back tears at the gesture. 

Between the pile of letters Eiji has been sending, Michaels drawings on the wall, between the arms of someone who cradles him like they _share blood-_

For the first time, he does not wish he died back at the library.

He does not regret being rushed to the hospital.

He is no longer angry at the paramedic, bags under her eyes, hand fisting into his, giving her all-and then some to save his life. 

He buries himself further into Max, sighing in a healing type of pain, and sends out an apology to her.

_‘I never treated anyone the way I treated you’._ He thinks, face pressed against his fathers shirt. ‘ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry’-_

Half asleep- drifting slowly, Max stroking his hair, Ash recalls himself at his most vulnerable.

A private moment, in the back of an ambulance, Ash bites at the woman brushing back his bangs. Tells her she is taking his last chance of freedom away. 

_You have no idea what you’re doing to me- bitch._

She is only a few years older than him, holding him down, tending to his wounds.

_I hate you- I hate you for this- you’re fucking crazy-_

He’s angry, screaming, until he meets her gaze.

no malice behind her eyes. She looks soft. worried.

Ash realizes, this woman sees him for what he is. 

Young, and terrified. Did she ever feel that way?

He gives in- and holds her hand back- face crumpling into hot tears, meets her eyes and begs hoarsely 

_Let me go, let me go, let me go_

_Please. Please. I’ll do anything, let me go_

Even though they had never met before, and would never meet again, she tilts his chin up to meet his eyes. 

_This isn’t the right way out. You know that. We both know that._

He does know. 

Somewhere lost between time, between before and after, between what he thought was his grave and the hospital, he begs a stranger to lick his wounds, sitting with him at his rock bottom, clinging to each other in the dark. 

When she sends him off- she brushes his bangs back, letting him drink up the tenderness. She looks up at the doctors, Ash knows they’re talking about him. Outside of describing his condition, he hears her whisper to the nurse

_He’s a sweetheart- make sure he gets out okay._

He likes to think she forgives him

He will come to understand- over a gurney and intertwined fingers- neither of them have anything to be sorry for. 

  
  
  
  
  


🥺💕Eiji💕🤧

  
  


Are you excited Ash?!(°▽°)

im dreading it actually

Ha ha

You are very funny 🎃🎃🎃🎃

I will come visit Max but not visit you 

That sounds nice actually

You need friends your own age ❤️ 

  
  
  


You are such a sweet heart❤️

I will visit Max and you can play with Michael🤗

  
  
  


✅ Read 2:48 

  
  


ヽ(￣д￣;)ノ

  
  
  
  
  


Even though he’s been calling Eiji- for _hours_ every day- Ash is shaking with nerves at the idea of seeing him again. He’s walking around the house in circles like a psycho, Max and Jessica share concerned, but teasing glances. 

“Michael,” Max starts, unable to hide his smile

“Are you excited to see your brother in law?”

Ash whips his head around at full speed, ears red, brow furrowed. “What the HELL Max?!”

Michael tilts his head, confused. “Eiji is my brother?”

Jessica laughs, patting Michaels head. 

“Brother in _law_ Michael. That’s what you call the person who marries your sibling. Like Eiji and Ash.” She looks at Ash for a reaction, through her lashes. 

“You’re both hilarious. This is like my own fucking comedy show. Eiji is going to come over and get the wrong idea.” Ash crosses his arms, flinging himself onto the couch next to his brother. 

“We don’t want to give Eiji the wrong idea, Jess.” Max starts. “We should tell Ash to change Eiji's contact information.” 

Jessica smiles, a little excitedly. “Please tell me what you mean by that.” 

“He’s got little hearts around it. It’s really cute actually- I think Eiji would be very happy to know-“ 

“Max you are horrible!” Ash gets up from his spot, grabs onto his arm, _mortified_. 

“I just call it how I see it!” He palms through Ash’s hair. 

“It isn’t funny. It’s serious.” Ash has his face stuck between a glare and a pout. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Jessica leans across the counter, chin in her palm. “You’re right, it’s not funny. It’s really just sweet.”

“If you say anything while he’s here I am never speaking to you again.” Ash looks _pissed_ , and is sure to close his bedroom door as loudly as possible. 

Jessica and Max can recognize empty threats. 

Michael follows him, mumbling promises to not say anything, telling Ash not to worry

  
  


🥺💕Eiji💕🤧

We are landing( ◠‿◠ )

I am very excited to see you.

I miss you Ash.

  
  


I'm super nervous😼

Are you going to be awkward?

We can pretend we are just meeting

Hello American stranger (๑╹ω╹๑ )

That might help tbh

What’s ‘tbh’ ಠ_ಠ

Wait! I am leaving now! 

I will call you when I get bag

I love you Ash

  
  
  
  
  


This has to be a joke. Eiji is so honest and unembarrassed in his affections, and now he’s going to be acting all sentimental. _This has me fucked up_

Ash hears his phone ring once, twice, but he already sees Eiji from across the airport. He registers Max laughing _because my shaking legs are apparently the funniest thing he’s ever seen._ He stands frozen for a moment, until Eiji meets his eyes, and comes running towards him, bag slung over his shoulder. Wide eyed gaze, smile across his face. 

This is one of those times, few and far between, where Ash truly understands what it means that he made it out alive. 

Eiji flies into him, of course he _flies_. Ankles crossed behind Ash’s back, face buried in shoulder. Ash immediately holds him back, taking all his weight. 

He’s laughing, and crying, and pulls back to grip Ash’s face; causing the blonde's heart to give out, and come back again. Breathless, and more honest with words than Ash could ever be, Eiji flings his arms back around the others neck. 

“I am so. so happy to see you. That you are okay, that is the most important thing. _Aslan._ ” 

The boy in the ambulance, the one who gave up, who cried deeply, sadly, at the mere idea of living another day, another _hour_. 

There are three moments in Aslan’s life; three moments where he believed death was the only answer. 

The first, being eight at a police station. Choosing between shooting himself- or the man he came to believe he seduced. 

Looking back, there was one bullet in the gun for a reason.

The second is harder. 

He thinks back to Shorter, opening his heart, the first person he had ever known. Sharing beds without ill intent. His _better_ half. The good one, the one who would do _anything_ for the people in his heart- and proved it. 

The last, being the longest- the closest. Curled up under the warm, quiet library air. He used to think those were the six easiest hours of his life. 

Now, Eiji whispers to him, a funny story from the plane, not to wake Michael, asleep in his car seat.

Rather than a table, his head rests on Eiji’s shoulder. They hold hands, where blood used to be. 

For once, living is the easy choice. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey😏  
> If ur reading this i love you   
> Also tw for mentions of Ash’s childhood (nothing graphic but it’s clear what I’m referencing)

The list of things that can actually make Ash  _ nervous _ per say, is pretty short.

And yet, here he is, standing in his own house, pulse tripping over itself.  _ Like an idiot _ . 

Eiji is wearing his clothing, on his back in his bed, swiping through his phone with a small, bright smile on his face.

He’s soft, and he’s warm, and Ash feels his heart squeeze when they make eye contact. Having Eiji here, under safe, happy circumstances….

It isn’t easy. 

Oh, and Eiji has a shit eating grin on his face. 

“Hey Ash” he smiles “take me on my morning walk tomorrow. Please and thank you.” 

Ash barks out a laugh

“Oh you’re hilarious. I hope by morning you mean one in the afternoon.”

“We will go bright and early! More time in the day, a walk gives us more energy.”

“Sleep gives me more energy. And  _ less _ time in the day. Which is exactly what I want.”

“You want less time to spend with me? That better be a joke or I am getting on a plane  _ tonight _ .” 

“Be my guest.”

“What?! Fine, I will just go by myself, get lost in this foreign country. I will be so scared.”   
Eiji fake pouts, dropping his phone on the bedside table and turning his back to Ash. “Hmph.” 

Ash is wrapped around this boy's finger. It’s fucking ridiculous. 

“Just let me sleep past seven. I wanted to show you around anyways.”

The way Eiji turns to smile, chest puffing out as he sucks in a gasp of laughter, Ash decides he will never sleep past noon again.

As long as he can wake up to this.

\- 

“I really missed you, Ash.” 

Ash, overwhelmed, lays with his back to Eiji. His heart races at their proximity, and every brush of contact makes his throat stir. 

“Likewise.” He keeps it short, masking the quiver in his voice. 

“You are being so quiet.”

“I’m-“  _ scared, in love “ _ I’m just nervous. Still getting used to living like this.” 

“Oh Ash, it’s okay to be nervous. Change makes me nervous too.”

“It does?”

“Coming to America was not easy. Everyone speaks so quickly, the culture. Even the food, no honorifics. But then I made friends, and once you are accepted, things are not scary anymore.” 

“I want them to accept me.” Ash breathes out, accidentally. 

His mind flashes to the family outside his door, the married couple in the room across from his. 

“They already do.”  He can picture Eiji’s small smile in the dark. 

“We all come from such different places, even your friends from America. I know that anyone can belong anywhere, so long they are good and kind.”

“You’re good.” Ash mumbles, gripping their shared blanket. 

“You are more good.” Eiji giggles.

“We both know that isn’t true.”

“It is true. You are the best.”

“Then that makes you the worst.”

Eiji does not hesitate in his reply.

“Best or worst, I am yours.”

The silence between them falls softly. Ash bites back his desperation, his desperation to beg Eiji to elaborate. To ask him what he means by that. 

Eiji silently, cautiously, wraps an arm around Ash’s middle.

“Ash? _ ” _

“Yeah?” He replies, voice tight, heart pounding. They’re so close. 

Eiji spoons him fully, tangling their legs together beneath the shared blanket.

“I really like you Ash.”

“Yeah?” Ash replies, lamely. His heart picks up, and he reaches his hand down to shyly touch Eiji’s.

“Yeah. Do you like me back?” His breath tickles the back of his neck. 

“Yes.” 

“Okay. I am glad that we like each other.” He can hear the smile in Eiji’s voice. Playful, sweet. He lets himself sink back into the embrace. 

“Yeah.” Ash says again, breathless. He feels red, from the face down. 

“All you do is repeat yourself! Leave all the romance to Eiji, yes?”

“Oh shut up!” Ash squeezes Eiji’s hand in his, lifts it to his face and leaves a chaste kiss on the palm.

Eiji practically  _ squeals  _ in delight, and they both burst into laughter.

A year ago, Ash believed that he was no stranger to the physicalities of love. 

But now, Ash is laying in bed with someone he likes, someone who makes his stomach drop, face red at being cradled close. He’s so giddy, nervous,  _ shy _ that he can barely get any words out. 

A sense of clarity washes over him 

_ That was not intimacy, that was not love _

They both eventually stop laughing, breaths evening out. Ash has his head tucked beneath Eiji’s, hyper aware of skin on skin.   
Eyes shut, but face still red, heart still pounding, he lets get giddy with shyness. Their conversation replays on loop in his head, he thinks about doing this every night. 

Maybe Eiji would put an open palm on Ash’s leg while driving them to a  _ date _ . They could sit close on the couch, share a chair even if there’s two. He could write Eiji poetry, run a hand up and down the other boy's waist. 

His heart bursts at the thought of Eiji calling him  _ baby, sweetheart, honey.  _

Interrupting his thoughts, Eiji kisses his head, bursting into laughter again when Ash yelps and burrows into his chest.

This new proximity, the inherent high of a first love confession, and the excitement of being granted permission to explore the heart of another. 

Ash breathes in  _ Eiji, Eiji, Eiji,  _ to match the pounding beneath his ear. 

_ I am pure, I am innocent, I am still young.  _

“I just cannot believe I call us soulmates, and you still do not take the hint!” 

Ash is still, definitely not awake yet. He’s also pretty sure his shirt is inside out. Where are they going again? Oh yeah, he’s showing Eiji the park by his house.

“Yeah-well emotions were kind of running high.”

“Excuses excuses with you! Keep it up and I will have natto at our wedding!”

“You could serve shit at our wedding and it would still be the happiest day of my life.” Ash blurts out, he’s fucking tired okay?

“Ashhh….. you are bad for my heart!” Eiji looks like he’s biting back tears. “I love you, you are my boy.” 

“Mmm. Love you back Eiji.”

“There you go again, no more romance for today!”

“It’s fucking six thirty, give me a break.”

Ash huffs, but intertwines their fingers anyways. 

  
  
  
  
  
“Ash, I already told you. Angry is not the right word.” Eiji tilts his head back, sun shining on his face. 

They are sitting across from each other in the grass, backs against the wall surrounding the park. 

Ash- for the first time since moving in- was actually making an attempt to get some time away from Michael.

“I don’t know. I feel like if you did the same thing I’d be a little mad at you.” Ash offers

“But that is not all I feel. I am relieved you are alive.”

Ash pauses, thoughtfully.

“I promise. For what it’s worth, it made sense at the time.”

“It makes me sad, Aslan, that you felt that way.” Eiji reaches down, slips their hands together.

The eye contact he makes rips its way through Ash’s heart. Full of mirth, like Ash is actually worth something. 

“I do not pretend to know” Eiji pauses, moves his other hand so he can cradle Ash’s palm between the two. Gentle. 

“I do not pretend to know- to know what you felt that day. What you feel on your difficult days.” 

Ash bites his lip, shuffling closer, leaning into the warmth of his- of his  _ angel _ .

“What I do know is- it will feel better. You are precious- I will give anything to make you stay.” 

Ash let’s himself slip down, Eiji’s arms immediatly loop around him. He shuts his eyes- letting his fingers curl naturally around the hands they are clasped between. 

“The first letter I sent-“ Eiji starts, and Ash notes how his heartbeat picks up “-did you like it?”

“No. I hate all your letters.”

“You think you are someone funny?” Eiji pouts, turning away. 

Ash squeezes his hand, pausing

“Of course I liked it, Eiji.”

“What did you think?”

“What do you mean what did I think?”

Eiji is looking up at the sky again, he looks incredibly soft in the sun. His hair looks a little red in the light, eyes dark and glassy. He looks down at Ash, suddenly. Grinning fierce and yanking him closer. 

“Too subtle for you, yes? I have been waiting, all morning. If you asked me to be your boyfriend, I would say yes.”

_ Oh _

“Oh.”

Eiji’s laughter vibrates from underneath him, flying out into the air. 

Ash feels incredibly embarrassed. He’s not used to- _normal_ relationships. Thank god Eiji keeps his heart on his sleeve. 

Eiji strokes a newly loose hand through his hair. “It is alright if you do not want to call me that. Being with you- like this- it is enough.” 

His smile is gentle, and earnest. 

“I do, of course I want that- I want us to be together like that.” Ash can’t look him in the eye- it’s overwhelming. He figures it’s his turn to say something. 

“I like- I’d like being with you” he squeezes Eiji’s middle, getting a soft laugh out.

“It would make me happy.” 

“Okay Ash.” Eiji smiles down at him, pressing his cheek against hair.

“I probably can’t do a lot.” Ash blurts out, a wave of guilt washing over him. “I don’t know if- if I’ll ever be able to- you know?” Ash cringes hard. 

“Aslan, that isn’t what I’m here for.” Eiji meets his gaze, reassuringly. 

“That was never- that is never going to be my reason. Do not worry about that anymore.”

It feels nice to make it official. 

So nice, that Ash cries twice as hard as he thought he would when Eiji gets on his flight home. 

  
  


“I’m fucking crazy- I’m fucking crazy and both of you know it.” 

Ash paces back and forth, chest heaving. Tears start collecting in the corners of his eyes.

It’s not often that his episodes are public, but going a week after Eiji leaving, it’s been chipping away at his resolve. 

Max watches him from the table. 

“You aren’t fucking crazy, Ash. Nobody here thinks you’re crazy.”

“Jessica does.” 

“No I don’t, Ash.” Jessica sighs coming up behind him. She puts a hand between his shoulders.

“Sit down. You’re getting yourself more and more worked up.” She nudges him to an empty chair, pulling it out from under the table with her ankle.

Ash sits, head spinning. He doesn’t belong here, he belongs with Dino. On the streets.  _ Somewhere that he can-  _ “ngh!” He grips his head in his hands, he doesn’t like where his mind is taking him.

Jessica is holding him by the shoulders- rubbing them up and down. 

“Ash-“ is all she can get out, before he tilts his head up, and  _ sobs _ . 

Ever since Eiji went home, something inside Aslan has  _ reverted _ .   
He’s been propping the dining room chairs against the front door at night, pacing frantically when Max doesn’t come home at the exact time, instead of sleeping, he’s spent night after night, sitting up in bed, blank stare, lip trembling to try and release tears that won’t come. Not having Eiji around, has suddenly made him very insecure.  _ Do I really belong here? How long until the good part ends? _

His nightmares have been digging up memories so painful that he sets his phone alarm to go off every fifteen minutes throughout the night. 

Ash is above all, really really tired.

When Max looks at him, he’s struck with a sudden fear, vulnerability.

“Oh Ash, it’s okay. What’s going on honey?” Jess is still rubbing his shoulders, and Max immediately comes to his other side. 

“I-I just- I” Ash is caught with a series of sharp, tearful breaths. Teeth chattering, tears running down his face, he manages to choke out “ _ I’m scared!”  _ Before guttural sobs wrack his body. 

“He’s hyperventilating.” Max says, eerily calm, but plenty concerned. He gives Ash a soft, warm smile. 

“I’ll go get him a blanket, make him some tea.” Jess pats Ash softly on the shoulder, and nods to Max on his other side. 

“Nothing to be scared of, baby. Let’s try and breathe right now, okay?” Max is holding his arms down, not very gently, and it’s when Ash sees the bloody indents coating his trembling palms that he realizes why. 

_ No more, I can’t do this. I can’t. It’s too much, it’s too much. All of it, please help me, please help me.  _

Ash doesn’t understand what’s wrong with him, all he knows, is the pain is too much for his seventeen year old body to handle.

It’s overwhelming, and he’s aching with a  _ need _ that he can’t quite pinpoint. His cries have turned screaming, guttural, and his brain is showing him pictures at random. Some of Marvin, half of Dino, other strangers, then  _ Shorter Shorter Shorter  _ Eiji, Eiji in a hospital gown-  _ Skip _ baseball coach  _ gun gun gun _ the cameras the  _ film rolling  _ watching his little, baby self on screen, its playing like a movie, the police gasping in shock, but he’s zeroed in on a clip from his past. Little Aslan’s eyes begging for help. Little Aslan being torn to pieces,  _ laughter _ . 

He can hear Max, vaguely, somewhere distant and tender in his mind. “Ash. Ash. Listen. I’m right here, can you look at me?”

Ash pieces together that he’s now on the floor, blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and meets Max’s eyes. He gets hit with a new wave of panic, one he doesn’t know as well as the others. 

“Don’t- don’t leave me, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He whines, high pitched, gasping for air. 

“I’d never do that, okay Ash? Can I touch you?” Knelt down, by his side, Ash looks to the older man and reaches his arms out, shaking like a frightened child.

It’s almost as if he is one 

“Yes. Max, Max- Max”  _ make it stop, please. Please make it stop. Make it better.  _

“I’m here baby. Don’t worry, just let me take care of it, okay?” Max lifts him from the cold of the floor, from his fetal position, and carries him. It’s similar to how Max carries Michael to bed, Ash thinks, burying his face into his shoulder. 

_ Except that Michael isn’t- _

Ash feels a wave of sickness, for letting Max touch him. He imagines layers of filth dripping from his body,  _ fuck!!! I destroy everything I fucking touch _ . 

Ash is shaking again, and it's when Max sits them down on the couch, that he scrambles away from the older man's hold.

“Don’t touch me- don’t- don’t touch me- I’ll just- I’m ruining your life _ please don’t”  _

_ “ _ Ash, it’s okay.” Max holds both hands up, where Ash can see them. He’s curled in a ball, across the couch, trembling, crying, resembling a deeply wounded animal. 

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want Ash, and you are  _ not _ ruining my life. Why would you say that?”

Ash pushes his eyebrows together, face contorted in a way that almost brought Max to tears. 

“All I do- all I do is  _ fuck up everything _ , I should’ve died! I’m making you touch  _ my dirty fucking body.  _ I’m poisoning you, and your family,  _ I wasn’t supposed to be born, I, I, I-“ _

“No Ash, god, I’m sorry baby. You’re not dirty, you’re not. You aren’t making me do anything. I’m so happy you were born, come here Ash, you haven’t done anything wrong.” 

Ash sniffles, once, twice, before crumbling, giving in and crawling into open arms. He lets himself sit, curled up, in Max’s lap. Soft, soft relief floods through him at the gentle hands rubbing his back, wiping his face. 

“I’ve got you now, Aslan.” Ash shuts his eyes, soaking up every ounce of compassion he can get. 

“You are just as much my son as Michael. I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner.” 

“I’m so sorry Max.” 

“Don’t be sorry for anything, I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

“Please- please just make it stop.”

“I’ll do whatever I can baby.” 

Ash feels a soft, cool hand dip onto his shoulder. Jess takes the empty spot next to them. 

“Ash, honey, drink this for me.” She says, holding a warm mug up to his face. 

Ash trembles, trying to take the cup, but his hands are weak. He looks at Jess, a little helpless, apology on the tip of his tongue.

“You want your mama to help you? Here- we can hold it together.”

It’s taken seventeen years, but Ash finally learns that people are made to hold each other.

  
  
  
  


Jessica, like Ash (though for different reasons) is a night owl. 

He’s thankful that she’s awake right now. 

  
  


😚Jess💘

Hey :p 

You okay?

Why aren’t you asleep?

  
  


I wanted to ask you something :p

  
  


What is it?

  
  


Can I sleep in your room

If the answer is no 

Pretend I never asked😼

Of course you can

Big baby🎃

  
  


“Bad night?” Jess asks, making room for Ash on the bed. 

“Mmm. Yeah. I’m really tired.” 

She notes his lack of eye contact, his shaking hands. Poor baby.

“I’m sure you are. Come here honey.”

Ash curls up next to her, face visibly relaxing when she strokes his hair back, sighing into her kindness. 

“You wanna talk about it?” She tries, scratching behind his ear.

“Not yet.” He mumbles. They’re sharing a pillow, her hand holding the back of his head. Ash is melting under her touch. It makes her sad, how strongly he reacts to the smallest scraps of compassion. 

“That’s okay. I’ve got you now.” His face scrunches at her words 

“I know you do.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! I loveeee you and let me know what you think! I might make this like... 4 chapters but I also have another bf fic I want to write hehe... love you,,,,


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash books a flight, gets professional help, sleeps on the couch, and learns trauma is something you get better at living with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY 🤤🥂 how are you?! I hope everyone is doing lovely! I love you very much and please enjoy this chapter!

“Here— take a jacket.” Max mutters, slipping Michael’s shoes on. 

“Eww, it’s so ugly.” 

“Then freeze to death. Little shit.”

“No, I’ll wear it. But only because you told me to.” Ash smiles sweetly, sarcastically. The same way he does when he’s mad, but trying not to be.

“Damn right.”

Ash thinks the concept of therapy is hilarious. He simply cannot wait to sit down and tell a complete stranger about his innermost traumas. Max said he needs professional help. He thinks it’s embarrassing his situation is apparently this fucking dire. 

He sits in the car, arms crossed. Part of him wants to be a complete asshole, and the other part of him wants to be a reasonable person to prove that he really doesn’t need this.

“You nervous, Ash?”

“No.”

“If this doesn’t work out, we can get you a new person to talk to.” Max drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “If they say anything you don’t like, or make you uncomfortable, just let me know and we’ll move on.”

Ash laughs at the comment.

“How much do you wanna bet I’ll end up giving him a blow-“

“ _ Aslan _ .” Max interrupts, exasperated.

“Fuck. Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.” Ash mumbles. Michael is in the car. He has to be better. 

“I don’t like when you make jokes like that.”

“I know. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Max sighs. He puts the car in park, turns to Ash. “You can’t help it. Also, I made sure that you’ll be talking to a woman, okay?”

“Okay.” Ash mumbles, a little surprised. That helps his nerves a lot, actually. He takes off his seatbelt, gets out of the car. He opens the back door, poking at Michael’s stomach before grabbing him from his car seat. 

Michael wraps his legs around Ash’s middle. Arms around his neck. 

“Did daddy make you mad?” He whispers into Ash’s ear.

“Yeah.” Ash whispers back. 

“I can say something to him, if you want.” Michael says, completely seriously. As funny as it sounds to put an eight year old up against Max, Ash shakes his head.

“It’s okay, thank you though.” He replies, smiling. He fights the urge not to squeeze the boy when he sees him  _ glare _ at Max from the corner of his eye. 

The office is small, but not cramped. There’s about eight empty chairs and a couch, but Ash sits with Michael on his lap. He’s a grounding weight in his arms. Makes him feel safe. Max is at the front desk, checking him in, and Ash winces at the  _ sixty dollar payment _ . Fuck! Poor Max just paid someone to sit with Ash in silence for an hour. 

Max sits next to him, reaches over, brushes back Ash’s hair a couple times.

“You good?”

Ash stares straight ahead. Pouting. Michael takes one look at Ash and crosses his arms, copy paste expression. 

“Great. Because one Ash isn’t enough.”

“Ash hates the doctor, and you don’t even care!” Michael replies, scowling, leaning over the armrest. 

Max just laughs at this, which pisses Ash off even more. Maybe Michael has a fucking point!

“For Ash?”

Max lifts Michael off of Ash’s lap, nods to the blonde. “That’s you, son.”

Ash just looks at him, suddenly helpless. 

“Max…” he mumbles, slowly standing up. 

“I’ll wait out here for you— you need anything just come get me.”

“Max…” 

“Trust me Ash, it’ll be fine.”

At that, Ash meets the girl at the doorway, follows her into the back. She has glasses, short, cropped black hair. Pink flannel and jeans. 

“It’s nice to meet you Ash, I’m Makayla.” She smiles, swinging her office door open. There’s two chairs, and they aren’t far apart enough, and Ash doesn’t like that she shuts the door behind them. 

“Do you want to switch seats?” She asks, but Ash can’t have his back to the door. He shakes his head and sits down. There’s a letter opener on the desk, and he’s happy to have found a last resort. Still, he should’ve brought a knife. 

“What brings you in, Ash?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s alright, how about you tell me a little about yourself, your family.”

Ash pauses. 

“What about them?”

“Their names, where they work, stuff like that.”

“They're journalists.” Ash mutters, looking at his nails. 

“You live with mom and dad?”

“My brother too.”

“Older or younger?”

“Little brother.” Ash bites his cheek to hide a smile at the mention of Michael. 

“He sounds sweet. How old is he?” 

“Eight.”

“You take care of him?” She asks, soft. 

“Yeah.”

She pauses, flips through the papers on her clipboard. Writes something down. 

“Do you have any hobbies, interests?” 

Ash freaks out a little, because he really doesn’t. His eyes dart around, searching for the words. 

“Ah, I know it’s hard to come up with things on the spot. You’re shy, yes?”

Ash nods. Sure. 

She clicks her pen, scans over her notes.

“Your dad told me a little about your history Aslan.” She hums to herself. “I do PTSD counseling, and he’s interested in having me put together a program for you. How do you feel about that?”

——

“It was nice meeting you Ash, I’ll see you next week okay?”

Ash hums, shuts the door behind him. He follows Michael and Max’s voices down the hall and to the lobby—He wants to go home.

“Ash! Everything okay?” Max greets him, standing up with Michael. 

“Let’s go.” He mutters, swinging the door open before Max can protest. 

“Okay, okay. We can talk in the car.” He hears from behind him. Max is trailing after him, holding Michael’s hand in his. Ash never wants to speak to him again, never wants to look at him, but when Max catches up,  _ gently grabs his arm— _

Fuck it! Ash clings to him like a lifeline, close, basically hides behind him in the parking lot. 

Ash sits on the passenger's side, glares out the window. He listens to Michael clamber into his car seat, Max gently buckling him in. He turns his body away when Max shuts the driver’s door, leaning to look at Ash. 

“How did it go?” He asks, taking Ash’s hand. 

“Fine. Except you telling everyone my business.” Ash mutters, he’s mad, but doesn’t move his fingers from Max’s hold. He can’t do this. 

Max pulls out, out of the parking lot. Ash can’t hear anything he’s saying. He leans over in the passenger seat, curling in on himself, shutting his eyes. Every time they turn, he feels like he’s going to throw up. 

“Ash, I had to ask around to find someone who specializes in your area. I didn’t share any details, just mentioned some of the shit you’ve dealt with.”

“I don’t want to go back—if she knows.” Ash replies, there’s a lump in his throat.

“Ash, you have to tell a doctor about these things.” Max sighs, squeezing his palm. Ash chokes up a bit, doubling over further.

“It hurts to talk about.” He breathes, voice shaking.

“I can’t imagine.” 

It’s quiet for a while, and Ash is trying. He really is trying. 

“When I got back from the military, Jess made me see someone for a while.” Max says, voice low, gentle. “I didn’t think it would help either, but I know better now.”

Ash can’t come up with a reply, but tightens his grip when they pull into the driveway. 

——

“I am seeing someone here too, it’s no big deal.” 

Eiji’s voice carries through the phone, Ash can hear his smile. “I am glad you are getting help, Ash.”

“At least one of us is happy about it.” Ash bites, rolling his eyes. Eiji just laughs.

“Doing anything fun this week, onii-chan?”

“Oh  _ yes! _ Aslan!” 

“Yes Eiji?”

“I am moving out of my family home soon, to be closer to my school and Ibe.” Eiji hums. 

“You mentioned.”

“Would you like to come visit me? Stay a while?” He can hear Eiji bouncing. 

“You mean help you unpack? Provide free labor?”

“Exactly!”

“I’d be happy to.” He sighs, genuinely. The idea of playing apartment with Eiji under safe circumstances makes his heart pound. 

“I can show you my country, like I wanted.” Eiji gushes, he’s practically squealing on the line. “Ask Max about it tomorrow! Then we can pick a date. Promise you will!”

“I’ll ask him right away, I promise.”

“Mmm. Kay. Goodnight Ash.” 

“God, you go to bed early.”

“It is night over here stupid boy! Now hang up and let me rest!”

“It’s barely what, twelve?” Ash grins.

“It is almost one! Easy for you to say, it is nine for you!”

“Still early. Old man.”

“Do not argue with me. Say goodnight and hang up now.”

“Don't have to tell me twice. Fucking nag.”

“Owww!” 

“Sorry, sorry. Goodnight, I love you.”

“I love you too.” Eiji breathes out, voice still giddy. He blows a kiss into the receiver, and the call ends. 

Ash flops down on his back, nerves twisting in his gut. He thinks about Eiji, thinks about meeting his family. Thinks about them curled up in a one bedroom apartment, sharing a bed. It’s early, but he shuts his eyes. 

——

It’s not as bad as usual, he sits up, fully aware of where he is. He doesn’t feel frightened, just a little shaken, kind of sick. Ash swings his legs over the bed, walks to the kitchen to get some water. The living room light is on, and he notices he almost slept through the night. Microwave says 6:30. Max wakes up early often, even on weekends. Says it's a habit from prison. 

Ash puts his hand on the doorway to the living room, squints against the soft light of the tv. He rests his head against the frame, and Max turns his head around to look at him. 

You have a bad dream?”

“Nope.” Ash’s voice is still scratchy from sleep. 

“Come sit.”

“Up early again old man?”

“My last job fucked up my good sleep schedule. Right when I had it under control, too.”

“Tough.” He mumbles, curls up next to him on the couch. 

“What was your nightmare about?”

Ash pauses. No energy to argue. 

“Just uh- something from when I was a kid.”

There’s a documentary playing, low volume. 

It looks like some sort of Animal Planet knockoff. 

Suburban, white dad television. Max television. 

_ Fuck it _

Ash flings himself down next to Max, and before he can back out, he lays his head in his lap. 

“Oh! Hey Ash.” Max laughs, seemingly  _ elated _ at the show of affection. He immediately lays an arm over the boy's side. Ash is too tired to be stiff, and still a little shaken up. The warmth and proximity is a grounding weight for him. Max tucks a piece of blonde hair behind his ear.

“Wanna tell me about it?”

Ash opens his mouth, shuts it again. Not tonight. He closes his eyes, cheek against pant leg. Max rhythmically pets his hair. It’s kind of chilly. 

Ash sits up, ignoring Max’s sigh of disappointment, and grabs a blanket off of the end of the couch, pulling it over his body. He lays himself back down, curling up as small as he can, a bit closer this time. Max continues his soothing touches. 

“Ash.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think about getting your GED?” 

“Like— diploma?”

“Yeah. So you can go to school.”

Ash pauses. It would be nice, get an education. Ash likes English, likes to read. Might like school. He feels something weird rising in his gut though.

“Um-“ he pauses. “Max, how long are you okay with me staying here?”

“What do you mean?!”

“Like, when I turn eighteen in a few months, and I have my diploma, do you want me to like—“

“I’m not kicking you out Ash!” 

“You’re allowed to if you want to, Max!”

“Ash— _ Aslan _ .” Max sighs, pushes Ash’s bangs off his forehead. 

“Do you think I’m gonna send Michael away the second he’s legally an adult? The second he finishes highschool?”

“ _ No,  _ obviously not.”

“Hmm and what makes you any different?”

“I—oh shut up. You know.” 

“I actually don’t know. So don’t worry about that. You’re going to be my son until you’re  _ dead _ Ash.”

Ash doesn’t know what to say, just curls in closer. 

“Okay.”

“Good.” Max finishes. “You don’t have to go to college, but I want you to have your diploma at least. Plus, I think you’d really enjoy continuing with school. We’d help you pay for it, so don’t worry about that either.”

Ash used to picture himself going to class, studying for exams. He likes English, likes to read, he wanted to be a publisher as a kid, or a professor. Maybe even work at a library, once he got the strength to step inside of one again. He pictures that little boy, tiny, fantasizing about pens and paper and highlighters all while splayed out on torn bed sheets. 

Ash sniffles, croaks out a “thanks.” But wishes he could say more. 

“Oh Ash, don’t thank me. Shh… s’okay. It’s over now.” Max gushes, petting Aslan like a cat. He resembles one, the way he’s curled up, small, warm. 

Ash listens to the hum of the television, sleepy haze taking over his brain. Max pinches his cheek, lightly, making him snap his eyes open in a halfhearted glare, a warning. Max just laughs, a soft “sorry, sorry.” He smells like Jessica’s perfume, coffee, the new candle in the kitchen. It’s dark, but in a way that covers you like a blanket, not isolated, or smothering. It’s dark because it is nighttime, not because you’re alone. 

Max doesn’t stop petting him, even long after Ash has stopped moving. Ash likes to think he will keep doing it long after he falls asleep. 

Ash feels himself, lulling in and out of consciousness. It’s weird, waking up from something that isn’t a nightmare. The morning light behind his eyes is soft. He can hear Jess talking, mumbling a good morning, kissing Max on the cheek. 

“How the hell did you manage that?” He hears her say, voice low, a little more than a whisper.

“He did it himself, little sweetheart.” 

“And I thought he was a mama's boy.”

“He’s just like you is what he is. Contaminating Michael too.” 

“Lucky you.” He hears Jess laugh.

“Yeah, cause I need  _ three _ Jessica’s in this house.”

——

Ash leaves therapy crying almost every time he goes. It’s not necessarily a bad cry, more like cleaning an old wound. He finds himself at a weird crossroads, his old struggle was that it hurt to speak, but sometimes he finds himself talking nonstop, uncontrollably, no matter how painful the memory. He always walks out of the office, eyes red, pliant, leftover hiccuping. Today is no different. He says his thank you, his goodbye, shuffles to the waiting room and curls on one of the seats while Max reschedules for the upcoming week, usually a Wednesday. 

“You ready to go?” 

Ash nods, standing, hands in his pockets. Max leans in, kisses his temple. Whispers that he’s so proud, so proud of Ash for working through these feelings, for facing even an ounce of the pain he’s suppressed. 

Ash lets him hold him to his side when they walk to the car. Sometimes, on the drive home, he talks. Sometimes he just sits silently. Either way, Max always asks if he wants to. Today, Ash finds himself wailing like an infant from the passenger seat.

“I—I tried to talk about— this time—with-when D-Dino and Marvin—but it was so hard! And—it hurts me the most because— I can’t even remember—what they did to me without! Without getting like—like this!”

“I’m so sorry Aslan, I’m so sorry they hurt you so badly.” 

“I can’t—I can’t handle it— _ Dad _ —“

“You’ll get through this Ash, I know it’s painful, but you’ll get through this.”

Ash just wraps both of his hands around Max’s free one, doubles over and cries into it. He soaks up Max’s pet names, his  _ shh, baby, baby, baby.  _

He doesn’t eat dinner on Wednesday nights, always feeling too sick, too uneasy. It’s the one day a week where he slips into bed with his parents, curled between them. He’s probably really messing with their sex life at this point. He should also be embarrassed about being seventeen, purposely wearing one of Jessica’s old shirts to sleep in, tucked willingly between mom and dad in fear like he’s Michael’s age. But on nights like these, with the memories fresh in his mind, he thinks that there are bigger things than teenagers who still have night terrors. 

And he’s too horrified to feel any sense of shame. 

“Lay back down Ash…” Max whispers, firm, gentle. 

“Can’t— I  _ can’t _ —he’s— he’s  _ here.” _

“Nobodys here but us— he’s  _ gone  _ Ash.”

“The others— so many of them—“

“They don’t know where you are. You’re  _ safe _ now.” Jess sighs, rubbing between his shoulders.

Ash is shaking, but let’s Max guide him back down. He’s curled on his side, when a car drives by their window. Ash whines in fear- a high pitched, strangled  _ “mom—“ _

“Shhh…. It’s okay.” Jess mumbles. She can feel his heart pounding through her fingertips. He’s frozen in fear, trembling, clutching her wrist. 

“Max, we need to get him melatonin or something.”

“Won’t he still wake up after taking them?”

“If it’s relaxing he might not. It’s not the waking up part I’m worried about anyways.”

“Yeah, he’s fucking terrified.” 

“You need to tell his doctor it’s getting worse.”

“It’s supposed to— I mean, it means he’s starting to process it.”

“I know but this  _ has  _ to be traumatic for him.” She sighs, gesturing down to Ash. He’s clearly frightened, clutching her desperately. She hears him mumble something, between gasps, hiccups.

“What did you say baby?”

“I— sorry—sorry! I’m trying—to stop—“ he’s hyperventilating, hand clamped over his mouth in an effort to be quiet. There’s a desperate mantra in his head—  _ shut the fuck up— they’re going to lock you out of their room if you don’t stop with this shit— _

_ “ _ He thinks we’re mad at him.” Jess nods to Max, wrapping an arm around Ash’s waist. He’s doing a really bad job at catching his breath, it  _ hurts _ . 

“Ash,  _ Ash _ . You can cry as much as you need to, we’re not mad.” Max rushes out, and Ash sits up again. 

“We’re worried, we know this isn’t your fault.”

He adds, copying Ash’s movements. He puts a hand on his lower back, runs it up to his shoulder blades. He repeats the action, guiding Ash through every inhale, exhale. Ash leans forward, breathing evenly against his shoulder, going a little limp. Max holds him, two hands on his back, laying him back down under the covers. 

“Nobody’s here?” Ash whispers, shakily, as Jess moves to hold him from behind. 

“Nobody’s here, Ash.” He repeats, and the blonde opens his arms, a little nervously, like he half expects rejection. Max holds him, tucks the smaller boy against his collarbone. Pain shoots through him, pure sadness as Ash tentatively curls an arm around his side, shakily, hesitantly wrapping their hands together. He feels silent tears dripping onto his neck. 

He wonders how many times Ash was robbed of being held. The idea isn’t pleasant. 

“sorry.” Ash’s whisper interrupts his thoughts. 

“Don’t be.” Max replies, quick. God, he just wants to do right by this kid. 

“Not mad?” 

“Nobody’s mad. We’re happy when you ask for help.”

Ash shudders at that, swings a leg over Max.

“Please don’t change your mind.”

  
  
  


——

They wake up to an empty bed, and Ash is almost never up first. 

It’s 7:45, there’s laughter down the hall. Ash has Michael balanced on his hip, his eyes still red, puffy. But he’s smiling. Michael is reaching down, to a bowl of batter, sticking his fingers in, makes a face when he tries it.

“Muffin batter isn’t good like cake batter, baby.” Ash mumbles, voice scratchy. He kisses Michael on the cheek, head, bounces him before stirring the mix a bit more, expertly, with one hand. Michael just whines, hands sticky, face scrunched. 

Ash doesn’t look either of them in the eyes, but Jessica forces a small laugh out of him before noon. You have to take what you can get. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOUS O MUCHCHDD FOR READING!!! Much love!!  
> 1\. Ash gets big brother gene from griff 😨  
> 2\. Max is a white dad 😐 sometimes it’s a positive sometimes it’s not. I know this man is canonically super unfunny.   
> 3\. Michael resembles Max a lot but I know jessica and ash turn him into a little demon 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR PUTTING THIS ON HOLD FOR SO LONG I LOVE YOUVSO MUCH ALSO WE WILL GET MORE ASH&MAX&JESS NEXT CHAPTER I PROMISE IT WILL COME OUT SOON PROBABLY THIS WEEK I LOVE YOU

The way Eiji twirls his keys around his fingers is very very very interesting to Ash. Deeply interesting. Have his shoulders always been this broad? 

“Stop staring at me.” Eiji sings, patting down the hallway towards his apartment. 

“I wasn’t.”

Eiji turns, hands tucked behind his back mischievously. 

“Whatever you say.”

———

Eiji’s place feels like home—probably because it feels like Eiji. He has pictures all along the walls, some of Ash, embarrassingly enough. One of him in their old kitchen—his shirt discarded somewhere in the house. 

“Geez Eiji.” Ash sighs, squinting at the blonde American decorating his walls. “You really  _ do _ like me, don’t you?”

Eiji drops his keys on the countertop, and flushes.

“So what if I do?!”

“I just think it’s embarrassing s’all.”

Eiji rounds the corner, soft laughter bubbling up from his throat, and hugs Ash from behind. 

“When we live together—I’m keeping them up, so everyone will think you are self absorbed.”

“Fuck that!” Ash laughs, and when he tilts his head back it rests on Eiji’s shoulder. 

“You think you would like it? Living in Japan?” Eiji mumbles, and it’s shy almost. Soft. 

“Yeah.” Ash breathes, feels the arms around him tighten. “Living with you.” 

Eiji lets go, and steps back a bit, letting him walk through the rest of the rooms. It’s pretty nice, quaint and modest—Eiji Okumura esque. His room is clean, a bed in the corner, some Nori stuffed animals sitting on the pillows. 

“You’re cute.”

Eiji crosses his arms. “I knew you would say something.” He huffs, turning away. Ash just laughs. 

Looking towards the nightstand, there’s a small frame, a picture of Ash, Eiji, and Shorter curled up in the back of the truck. Ash with his arms crossed, trying to hide his face in his shoulder, and Eiji and Shorter curled around each other, Eiji  _ practically  _ in his lap. 

“That one is my favorite.” Eiji smiles, picking it up. “He is such a sweet boy. I still have his jacket from when he let me wear it, you know.” 

“Was.” Ash swallows. Eiji looks up at him, confused. “You said he is. He was.” Ash clarifies.

“Just because he is dead does not mean he changed.” “Yeah.” Ash sighs. “but it’s past tense.” 

Eiji puts his hands on his hips. “Are you calling him mean?”

“No. Of course not. I’m calling him  _ dead.” _

Eiji rolls his eyes, and puts the frame back on his night stand. “I bet he does not miss your attitude. Always worried about the dumbest stuff.”

Only Eiji can talk about dead friends like it’s something lighthearted. Like the situation isn’t hopeless.

“Let’s go.” Eiji smiles, dragging Ash right out of his thoughts. “I have plans for us.”

———

“They are staring at you because your hair is so uncommon. Do not be shy.” Eiji whispers, hand on Ash’s shoulder. 

It’s pretty uncomfortable—Ash gets stared at for his looks in  _ New York _ of all places, so he should’ve expected this. Hell—Eiji was entranced by something as simple as his  _ eyelashes  _ back when they were first getting to know each other.

Eiji guides him gently towards the store, and despite being a  _ supermarket— _ the building is pretty traditional, which is super fucking cool. Ash has never been somewhere like— _ this  _ before. It’s like a different world. 

He understands now, how Eiji must’ve felt.

“You are in Izumo, so we are having Soba for dinner.”

Eiji smiles, leading Ash inside. 

_ Soba—like noodles? _ “I think I’ve heard of that before.”

Eiji lights up. “Really?! Cool! You will like it—not like natto! I promise!”

“If you say so….” 

“Be nice!” Eiji huffs, stomping his foot all cute. “You are going to try it! And we are going to make it together!”

Ash rolls his eyes, and let’s Eiji use him as a grocery basket, hurling shit at him to carry. Ash loves pissing him off—Eiji is hilarious when he’s mad. Clenching his fists, scrunching his nose—mumbling in Japanese. 

“You are lucky I am not making you pay!” Eiji chides, pulling out his wallet, and Ash’s eyes flicker to the little square picture of himself tucked inside.

———

“It is healthy for you! Put the vegetables all together.” Eiji instructs, reaching over Ash towards the pot. Ash grabs it by the metal handles, and holds it away.

“But I don’t like green onion!” He whines. Eiji stomps his foot in retort.

“You have not tried it in soba.”

“So?” Ash huffs. “I still don’t like it.”

“We can add it after then.” Eiji deadpans, making Ash smile. “Picky ass American.”

Ash puts the pot down, letting it rest on the burner for a second, before turning back to Eiji. 

“Watch your language.” He scolds, wooden spoon held gently between his fingers,

Eiji giggles mischievously, and looks Ash right in the eyes.

“Eat shit!”

“Woah!” Ash gasps, dropping the wooden utensil on the countertop in mock—offense. “Where did you learn that?!”

“I’m bad.” Eiji laughs behind his hand, before grabbing the spoon himself, twirling it around his palms all proud.

Ash turns back to the stove, and watches as Eiji stirs the water in gentle circles, round and round.

“Look up on my phone how long we need to boil it for.” He instructs, turning up the heat on the burner. 

Ash grabs Eiji’s cell off the counter, and presses in the passcode. He slides it open, and goes to the internet icon. It immediately opens up his private browser. The website is some weird Japanese forum.

_ What the hell is this?  _

Ash never said he wasn’t nosy, and pauses to scroll for a bit. He clicks the top of the browser, and translates the page. 

The more he looks, the more his heart sinks. 

_ Your friend or family member may need help and support in redeveloping trust in the world around them. Building a new sense of trust and safety is one of the most difficult steps in recovering from sexual assault. _

Ash quickly switches away from the private browser, and opens a new tab. If he focused on the other one any longer, he’d probably start crying. The implications are heavy. 

He looks to Eiji.

“No longer than five minutes.”

Eiji sighs, and puts a hand on his hip like an exasperated housewife.

“Good. I am very hungry.”

“Fatass.”

————

The soba is actually really good, earthy, and Ash doesn’t even like vegetables that much. 

Eiji is an  _ extremely  _ noisy eater. He blows on his noodles  _ super  _ loud, before slurping them, making happy little noises from the back of his throat.

“Jesus. Can you eat any fucking louder?” Ash teases, and Eiji peeps up at him, mouth full.

“Huh?”

“You’re such a slob—if we were at a restaurant, I could hear you all the way from the parking lot.”

Eiji furrows his brow, before lifting another mouthful up to his face. 

“Mmmmph—mmmm—ngh-mmph—“

“Oh my god—“ Ash groans, but he can’t hide his smile.  _ “Shut up!” _

Eiji bursts into laughter, curling their ankles together under the table. 

“You are the best, Ash.” He mumbles, still digging into his bowl. “My best friend. Thank you for coming.”

Ash swings his leg upwards, resting it on Eiji’s thigh. 

“Thanks for having me.”

——

Eiji washes dishes at the sink, and it’s  _ painfully  _ domestic. Ash drapes his arm over the back of his chair, and smiles, but lets the expression slip away at the look on Eiji’s face. Every once in and while—he gets all far off and vacant. Ash scratches the back of his neck.

“So, how are you doing, Eiji?”

Eiji tilts his head back, laughs a little. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean—after everything that happened—are you doing okay?”

Eiji noticeably furrows his brow. “Yeah. Why?”

That’s weird.

“Cause—all that must’ve been traumatic for you.” Ash explains. “Are you doing okay?”

Eiji stiffens, and silently nods.

“Eiji—“ Ash starts, curling up on his chair. “Come sit down.”

Eiji looks like he isn’t going to, but he turns off the sink, and sits next to Ash. No eye contact—a little tucked in on himself. What’s going on?

“You can talk to me.” Ash starts, reaching over to offer Eiji a hand. Eiji doesn’t take it, just watches him with trepidation. 

“I do not know—if I can.” He mumbles, eyes darting around the kitchen. 

“What? Why?! You can trust me.” Ash replies, wide-eyed. Does Eiji not trust him anymore?

“It is not because I do not— _ trust _ you.” Eiji explains. “I just—I do not know. How you will—see me—in my struggles.”

Ash shakes his head, almost in  _ shock.  _

“What do you mean?!  _ Eiji— _ nothing you talk to me about is going to— _ change  _ anything. We—we take care of each other.”

That seems to strike a nerve, because Eiji stomps his foot, and stands. 

“You always—you always say you are weak—and terrible—for feeling some of these things—“ Eiji huffs, eyes welling with tears. “So—so I do not feel good. Telling you about it—if I feel the same way!”

Oh—

“Eiji—“ Ash replies, pushing out his chair. “I’m sorry—that’s like—something I’m really working on—but it’s kind of exclusive to me? Which is still a problem—but I  _ promise _ if you’re feeling—how I’m feeling—I won’t look down on you for that—or for anything,  _ ever _ .

Eiji softens, and wraps his arms around himself. 

“I—I came back different. I have bad dreams—and I get nervous and stuff.”

Ash sighs.

“Yeah. I mean—that was a really really shitty situation. Do you wanna uh—tell me what’s been bothering you?”

Eiji sits back down, body language soft and open again. So it seems Ash did  _ one  _ thing right in this conversation. He never thought about how is deep rooted self hatred might actually give Eiji a complex—

All the more reason to change.

“Bad things happened in America. I miss Shorter. I think that is my fault.”

Ash feels far away, like his brain is floating—checking out.

“Not your fault. You didn’t do anything—that was—“  _ if I say it’s my fault—he’s going to feel worse. _ “Something we couldn’t control.”

“I don’t know.” Eiji whispers, voice far away. “I think about it a lot. Maybe it should have been me.”

Ash feels sick.

“It should’ve been  _ no one _ , Eiji. Not you, or him.”

They fall silent for a minute, Eiji worrying his lip between his teeth. He’s too good—too warm for any of this. He shouldn't have been there—shouldn’t have seen the things he’s seen. 

“Something else happened.” Eiji mumbles, full of trepidation. “At the manor. And—I don’t know if you will still like me—if I tell you.”

Ash leans forward, nausea burning at the pit of his stomach.

“Eiji—there isn’t anything that would make me—‘not like you’.” He shakes his head. Eiji looks like hes about to cry. “What happened?”

There was a big chunk of time where Eiji was without him—back at Golzine’s. Ash doesn’t want to think about what that might mean. Time alone in that place—unguarded—it’s hell. 

“I—I am worried.” Eiji whispers, tearfully. “Because—you talk about—about what happened to you—you say it’s dirty.”

Oh no no no no no no no. Ash might actually throw up. 

“Did he—did he—do something to you? It’s not dirty. You’re not dirty.”

Eiji promptly bursts into tears—hot and fast, dripping down his face.

“Dino—and Yut Lung—“ Eiji starts, voice dropped. “They tied me up—and touched me.” He gasps, wiping his cheeks, under his eyes. “And—and then— _ Shorter—“ _

Eiji abruptly stops, like he’s holding his breath, tilts his head back, and  _ wails.  _ Ash hops to his feet, and reaches forward to rub Eiji’s shoulders up and down. 

“Oh my god—Eiji—you think I would blame you for that?! That is  _ not  _ your fault, or—or a reflection on you in any way. I’m so so sorry—“  _ I should’ve been there. I should’ve been there for you, like I promised you, and I should’ve held you afterwards, like I promised myself— _

“You say you are dirty!” Eiji interrupts, his voice clipped and wavering. “And a whore! And I—I am laying down in that room—thinking, how Ash is going to  _ hate _ me if he knows—“

“No no no Eiji—that’s  _ literally  _ exclusive to me and not any other— _ survivor _ —I’m so sorry, I would  _ never  _ blame you for that!” Ash gasps, and he’s crying too now—guilt—and something else—something deeper—

“But you blame yourself! You say it is your fault—and—and that you are all these horrible things!” “No—“ Ash swallows, trembling. “You’re right, I’m sorry. You’re right.” He reaches down and takes Eiji’s hand. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. It’s not your fault. And I’m so so sorry. I love you.”

Eiji sniffs, lacing their fingers together. He’s quiet, and isn’t looking Ash in the eye, biting his lower lip. 

“Sorry, Ash.” Eiji hiccups. “For everything.”

Ash guides the back of Eiji’s head to rest his face against his chest. 

“I should be thanking you. For letting me know. I won’t say those things anymore.”

Eiji curls his arms around Ash’s body, going limp, and Ash doesn’t think he can ever bring himself to let go again. 

———

“I know you do not do that on purpose.” Eiji whispers, Ash holding him in the dark. “It is a—a normal  _ symptom— _ of your—trauma. I know you do not—“ Eiji clears his throat. “Those thoughts of mine are not rational. I know you would not hate anyone for that.”

Ash likes to hold Eiji—especially in  _ Eiji’s  _ bed. Because it’s like Eiji is all around him. His arm tucked around his boyfriend's waist. He gives Eiji another squeeze.

“S’okay. I know. And—I mean—I really shouldn’t say that stuff about myself anyways. S’not good for anyone.”

“Still.” Eiji peeps, scooting backwards so he’s flush against Ash’s chest. “It is not kind—to accuse you like that.”

The silence that falls is comfortable, curled around one another, soft and warm. Ash has spent a very long time—a very long portion of his life, trying to get through things—

He’s not getting through anything alone anymore.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hey again 😏 🎃🎃🎃 thank you for reading <3 I really do appreciate it !! I love this anime/manga, and it’s very dear to my heart. I do have problems with the ending however, because I think that everyone can make it through, no matter what they’ve survived. I love ash, and I love writing him happy. Let me know if you want a second chapter I love youuuuuuy
> 
> Also yeah ash uses cat emojis what about it😼


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